They Wouldn't Be Yours
by kaitlin.perkins42
Summary: Hermione is unhappy with the life she is living and finds comfort in Harry's protection. But she finds that she wants more than comfort. HHr I'd love some reviews!
1. They Wouldn't be Yours

Title: They Wouldn't be Yours  
Rating: PG-13 (for adult content)  
Disclaimer: Any recognizable character or places in this story belong to JKR. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit of any form is being made from this, I only do it for fun.  
Summary: Hermione realizes that she's not living the life she wants.

* * *

The dim light of the evening enveloped a very fit man – he lay, snoring, on his stomach: the plaid of the couch pressing into his face. Suddenly, his fire place, which had been popping with the last heat in the charcoal, burst into violently green flames. A young woman's head, eyes wide and hair frizzed, appeared in the flames, and she opened her mouth to yell. "Harry!"

He snorted awake and glanced at her, his glasses askew. "Hermione! What is it?" His red t-shirt was bunched around his armpits, and he shimmied it down as he crawled to kneel in front of the fireplace.

"Harry- please, come over quick! It's Dean…"

"Again." He finished her drawn out sentence for her. "Alright, just let me get some pants on, and I'll be right there." She nodded before a hand grabbed her hair and pulled her forcefully out of the fire. Harry blinked the last of the sleep out of his eyes before jumping, pulling on some pants and disappearing silently. He stumbled as he fell next to dark green couch, then ducked quickly as a plate went flying past him and smashed into a wall. He heard Hermione scream and then felt a pair of hands latch around his knees. He glanced at her quickly.

"Thank you," she whispered quietly. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair was almost on end, and it looked as though her shirt was torn.

His eyes flicked up just before a fist made contact with his nose. It started bleeding and through the crimson haze, Harry reached for his wand.

"Why'd you come?" The other man bellowed. His voice was raw and he sounded shaken. Harry could smell fire whiskey on his breath. "Why do you always have to come?"

The grip on Harry's knees tightened and he heard Hermione whimper. "What do you think you're doing, Dean?" His voice was loud, but he wasn't yelling. Yet. He pointed his wand, and Dean, disoriented from the alcohol, crumpled to the floor.

"Wh…What'd you do to him?" Hermione glanced at the form across from her as Harry knelt in front of her.

"He's not dead, just knocked out." He reassured her, pushing a lock of sweaty hair out of her eyes softly, causing the dam to burst.

She fell heavily against him. "Oh Harry. If you hadn't come…Normally I'm alright, but he…He broke my wand, Harry. He snapped it in two."

"It's alright," he cooed gently as he wrapped his arms around her, thinking of home. They ended up in the living room. Both of them stood, a little awkwardly because of their previous embrace and he finally took in her entire appearance. Her pants looked as thought they had been ripped undone. One sleeve on her t-shirt was torn and gentle streams of tears were working their way down her face.

She got up slowly before curling into a ball on the couch and looked up at him with doughy eyes, hugging her knees to her chest. "Thank you. You come every time, whether you're playing, or sleeping…or…"

"What happened?"

"The usual." She sniffed, wiping her eyes.

"What did he do to you, Hermione?"

"He…He wanted to…oh, Harry, please don't make me." She buried her head in her hands, shaking it.

He sighed and ran his hands quickly through his shock of hair, resigned to stop bugging her about Dean. He was used to the lack of answers. "You should get cleaned up." She nodded and rose slowly from the plaid sofa, before walking down the hallway. She had been to Harry's so many times, she knew the little house like the back of her hand. He brushed off his pants and muttered a cleaning spell to get the blood off his face before walking to the foyer, where a large mirror was hanging on the wall. His nose was swelling; it would be purple by that night, hopefully Hermione would know a spell that could reduce the swelling. He turned away from the mirror sadly and walked to him room, wishing things had been different, grabbing a large t-shirt of his and a towel. He walked the short distance to the restroom and knocked tentatively on the door. The faucet squeaked as Hermione turned it off, so she could hear him. "I've got a towel and some clothes for you."

"You can come in."

He opened the door, his head down, and set the small pile on the closed toilet seat. He saw the pile that was her clothes in the corner and picked them up to wash them.

Hermione put a hand on his arm to stop him,"I can do that."

"It's ok," he said, trying lightly to pull his arm out of her grip.

"No, really, Harry. I don't think I can keep much of it, now, anyways."

Sadly, he dropped the pile on the floor and nodded before leaving, closing the door behind him. The water come back on, and he could feel Hermione sigh, finally able to relax. He felt wrong going to sleep without making sure she was alright, so Harry walked to the kitchen and glanced at the clock on the stove. A green 1:00 AM glared menacingly at him. He shook his head and opened the fridge, grabbing the 2 liter of milk and pouring himself a glass before sitting down at the table. Dean drank a lot. Harry never would have expected it from the boy, knowing him in school as the most passive Gryffindor in his year. But then, while Harry was vanquishing Voldemort (a task only he could do, he didn't blame anyone for not helping him) Hermione had married Dean. Harry was very happy for her, but his heart broke, a little. He had been hoping for a happy marriage to Hermione. When he came back, he joined onto Ireland's Quidditch team as their seeker. Everyone seemed quite happy with the way their lives were going. Then Hermione started coming to him. "Dean's been drinking," she would say. He never hurt her, or more, she never let him. She always held him off with a spell, but the experience shook her none the less and as a result, she would come and stay at Harry's house and get her bearings before going back home.

Ron had offered her refuge to, but his wife, a woman for Beauxbatons, was unhappy to have Hermione around their children, so Hermione just stayed with Harry. If Harry was away, playing and international game with the team, he would just let Hermione stay at his house. She had a key and happily made herself content in his room, sleeping in his bed, eating his food. Wearing his clothes. Sometimes he wished it was always like that. Once he came home from a long trip, opened the door and saw her laying on the couch. She was reading one of his many Quidditch books, wearing a Chudley Canons t-shirt Ron had given him. He wanted to drop his bags right there and make love to her. But he resisted the urge, gave a shy wave and walked to his room, wondering what Dean had done that time. It had to be hard for her, he thought. He knew Hermione had always wanted a nice family, with a house fit to raise them in. And it made him bitter that Dean wouldn't give her that. It made him even more bitter that he, Harry, could, but wasn't allowed to.

Hermione shook him from his reverie by sitting down next to him at the table. "I put some tea on," she said, "Did you want me to make some for you, too?"

"Sure," he nodded slowly, "That would be great."

She rose and put some more water in the kettle, and then settled herself back into the wooden chair. "You know, sometimes I wonder why I didn't wait."

"Wait for what?" He looked up, hoping to make eye contact, but she was staring at a stain on the table, running her fingers around the small brown blob slowly.

"You."

He was suddenly taken aback, and, without meaning to, reached out to touch her and knocked over his glass of milk. "Shit." He got up from the table and grabbed a tea towel that was hanging off the stove, wiped up the milk and put the empty glass in the sink. After sitting back down, he cleared his throat. "Why _didn't _you wait for me?"

"I…You were fighting Voldemort." She seemed to be fighting to get the words out, "and I didn't know if you'd be back or not. I didn't want to be alone, forever, Harry. I couldn't just sit around waiting."

"But I did. I came back. Why didn't you just _wait_ until you knew for sure I wouldn't be back." He realized there were tears working their way down the bridge of his nose and his throat was closing tightly.

"I don't know. I wasn't thinking I guess. I wanted-" she looked at him, "You know what I wanted."

"But _I _could give that to you, now. Dean won't. You know that."

"He could, Harry. He wants to. But I'm not sure it I want it from him."

"What do you mean?" He asked her over the whistling of the kettle. As she stood to take the kettle off the burner, Harry could see she was nervous. Her hands shook while she poured the hot liquid into porcelain cups, placed tea bags in them, handed him one.

"Tonight. He wanted to have sex with me. Said he wanted to 'try for a baby'. I said no."

Harry stared at her, but again, she was avoiding eye contact, tracing the rim of her tea cup with her forefinger. "Why? Why did you say no?"

"Because. Because, all I could think was that they wouldn't be yours." She chanced a glance at him before looking back at her tea cup.


	2. Last Breakfast

Title: Last Breakfast  
Rating: R (Sexual content)  
Disclaimer: No profit is being made. Any recognizable characters belong to J.K.R.

* * *

Harry's eyes widened, but he avoided knocking over his drink for the second time that night. He sat up straighter. "Hermione, we could…we could have children together." His voice was full of hope, for Harry stood on the edge of a precipice. He was putting himself on the cliff for Hermione and she got to decide whether he was falling or not. She had to pull him back.

"Oh, Harry. I'm not like that, you know that. I don't…I've never cheated on-"

"But you want to Hermione," he was pleading with her, "You don't even have to cheat on him. Just leave him. There's nothing there for you. Look what I have here." He looked at her, his eyes boring into her, trying to find out if she would give him the answer he so desperately wanted.

"I have my job. I'd lose my job."

"Hermione, you could still be professor!"

"He'd find us, Harry!" She stood up, and was yelling. Her cheeks were red, but she was also crying. She didn't want to turn Harry's offer down. "He'd search for us until he found us! Then he'd kill you! He'd murder you Harry! That's just how he is!"

"You think I couldn't fight him off?"

"He'd do it quietly. You'd never know. Oh Harry, don't you see? He doesn't want me-"

"But I'm not allowed to have you either?"

"No." She shook her head and sat back down, exhausted, wiping her eyes and then she looked at him. "I want to Harry. I want to run away with you. But is it even worth it?"

"Then we won't run away. File for a divorce. Leave him. Out right." He smacked his hand on the table, trying to re-enforce what he was saying.

She jumped at the loud noise. "L…Leave him? I had…I had never even thought of that." She bit her lip, thinking. "No, I couldn't."

Now it was Harry who rose. He was angry. He was hurt. His insides writhed. "I love you!" He jabbed himself in the chest with his forefinger. "Why do you think I come to your _rescue _all the time? I love you! He doesn't! Why does he get to have you?" Suddenly she stood and slammed him against the counter, her mouth on his. She was biting his lower lip, making it bleed. He was ripping his button down shirt off of her, the buttons flying and hitting their tea cups, floating the bottom of the lukewarm liquid. She slid her hands up his shirt, moaned quietly. His tongue was in her mouth, exploring. Swiftly, he lifted her and carried her to his room, grunting as he dropped her onto the bed. Hermione bounced a little on the springy mattress and watched Harry hungrily as he pulled his t-shirt off over his head. He bent down and put a hand on either side of her hips, kissing her heavily. His mouth trailed down her neck, and he teased at her collar bone before pushing the shirt off of her entirely. She laid on her back, moving towards the other end of the bed so that they wouldn't fall off. Before he could pull off her underwear, she shook her head and moved to take off his jeans. After Harry was disrobed, he climbed on top of her and leaned down to kiss the side of her face. Her hair was still damp from the shower and smelled like shampoo. He trailed kisses down her arm while she used the time to explore his chest. Her hands wandered over his muscles, remembering every peak and valley, every scar and smooth spot. She reached a hand into his pants and Harry arched his back and moaned. She needed no further invitation to push his boxers off and tug her underwear off hastily. There was no further preparation to precede their coupling. Harry bent his head to rest on her shoulder, and she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair, moving her hips gently with him. As his thrusts became faster, she too increased her pace. It had been a long time since she had screamed his name when she came.

-------------------

The next morning, he woke up, her hair splayed on his chest, her head was in the crook between his arm and neck and she was snoring lightly. Their fingers were laced. He smiled for a moment, content with the current situation, but then sat up quickly. "Hermione?"

"Huh? What?" She was disoriented from the sleep; she brushed some hair out of her eyes and pulled the sheets up to cover her chest.

"Are you…do you take any kind of birth control?"

"No." She shook her head, in a bemused sort of way.

"I didn't use…" He blushed and rubbed his forehead.

"Oh!" She put a hand on his arm, wrapped her fingers gently around it. "It's ok."

"What? You said we couldn't."

"We'll figure something out." She laid back down and sighed, "For now, I want to enjoy this." And she pulled him back down with her as well. He turned on his side and pulled her body into the hallow that his made, wrapping his arms around her middle.

"That was…"

"Amazing?"

"Different."

He frowned. Harry might not have been a player, but he had been with a few girls in his day, and as far as they said, he was a pretty good shag. "What do you mean?"

"Dean's always so slow. But, the look in your eyes."

His frown deepened. "What look?"

"It seemed like…like you wanted to eat me." And she rolled over so that she was facing him and placed a hand on his chest.

"I'm sorry." He glanced down and saw their bodies so close together. Smiled.

"Don't be. I liked it. With Dean it always seems like a job. Like he's just doing it because he's supposed to."

Harry ran a hand through her hair. "It should never feel like that. You're beautiful. Every day with you would be a gift. Please leave him." He looked at her eyes, implored her to understand his argument.

"Maybe." She rolled out of the bed and picked one of his shirts up off the floor, slipping it over her head. Her hair was extremely frizzy as a result of the last nights Hermione threw the curtains open, Harry thought he had never seen a more beautiful vision, regardless of the fact that the day was a bit overcast.

"We should have a picnic."

"What? I don't have any clothes."

"I'll go buy you some."

"You don't know what my size is."

"Then tell me."

"Seven. Or medium."

He nodded and got up from the bed. He pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt. "I'll be back in a little bit. I don't know if there's any food in the fridge, but if there is, you're welcome to it." He walked out of the room and a few seconds later, she heard the front door click shut behind him. She stripped the bedding of the mattress and carried the bundle to Harry's washing machine, threw them in with some laundry detergent. After she set the washing machine on "Heavy duty" she walked around the house, picking up the clothes they had dropped, emptied the tea cups into the sink and rinsed them out, put them into the dishwasher. Then she wiped off the table and made herself some oatmeal and coffee for breakfast. Going back into Harry's bedroom, she opened his nightstand, grabbed the first book she saw and went to the kitchen. Of course she grabbed the photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of their first year. As she took bite of her oatmeal she opened the first page. A picture of Lily and James dancing caught her eyes, and with a painful pang, she thought of Harry dancing with red haired Ginny. The next page had a baby Harry with Lily and James. Harry waved at her, and giggled. Suddenly, Hermione's eyes filled with tears and she realized that was what she wanted. She wanted a baby like that with that man. She snapped the album shut and shoveled her breakfast down, gulped her coffee before putting the dishes in the sink. This would not be her last breakfast at Harry's house.


	3. Ten Minutes

Title: Ten Minutes  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: We've all heard this one before. Feel free to check chapter one or two if you feel there are any liability issues.

* * *

"I wasn't sure if any of it would fit. But the sales lady helped me pick it out."

Hermione started at the voice, looking up from her book sharply, to find Harry standing in the doorway, with a few shopping bags over his arms. He was grinning sheepishly as he held out the proffered gifts. She got up, dropping her book on the coffee table and walked over to him, reaching out a hand to take one of the bags. But Harry had other plans: he dropped the bags at his feet and pulled her into a bone crushing hug. Her face was pressed tightly into his chest, so her squawk of surprise was muffled, but after a few seconds, she wrapped her arms under his and returned the gesture, mildly confused. "Harry…Wha…?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd still be here," he pushed her away a little bit, and looked into her eyes, as though trying to drink her in.

"Of course I am. Why did you think I'd leave?"

"You seemed hesitant to stay."

"Oh." She hung her head, looking at the bags. There was a large pink paper bag that looked mildly inviting, so she opened it and tugged out the first article of clothing on top. It was a grey long sleeved shirt, followed by a burgundy sweater and some black slacks. "You did well, Harry," she said approvingly, smiling at his choices.

He handed her the other bags. "Go and get dressed." Smiling, he walked away from her toward the bathroom, planning to take a shower. He could hear her ruffling through the bags, then remembered he needed a towel. He ran back and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

He opened it and peered around the door slowly, she was wearing a bra and panties and holding up a pair of jeans. "Do you think these will fit alright?"

"I bought them, didn't I?"

She laughed nervously, her cheeks turning red. "I suppose so."

He grinned at her as he opened his closet, pulling out a white towel.

"You know, I never said anything to you, but for a bachelor's place, your house is pretty clean."

"I guess the Dursley's had to rub off on me some how," he shuddered at the thought before Hermione voiced how he was feeling.

"Yuck."

He clutched the towel to his chest in mock offense. "A boy cannot pick his family," he joked before leaving.

Hermione smiled after him, then frowned. Harry's statement, though said in jest, rung quite true about the Dursleys. For not only had Harry had no choice in the matter, the Dursleys had not picked him either, a fact they never let him forget. As soon as Harry had turned seventeen, he had moved into Grimmauld Place with Ron – Hermione, who had earned a post at Hogwarts and lived there, came to visit on holidays. The boys both lived their separate lives : Harry, who then played for the Wimborne Wasps, practiced often and Ron was attending Auror training ('nough said). Then, Ron met that girl from Beauxbatons at a quidditch match of Harry's . He was always bringing her Grimmauld place, and within the year, they were married and living in their own flat. Even with Hermione's frequent visits – now Dean came along, too – Harry said the house was empty and lonesome. He sold Grimmauld Place (and turned a fair profit) and bought himself the small cottage he now lived in. After about two years, Harry was traded to Ireland's international quidditch team and Dean proposed to Hermione. She said no. For she knew that Harry would get over the loss of Hagrid in the war against Voldemort and come back to her.

But all too soon, Harry was having pains in his scar again. He knew Voldemort would come back – Harry was still searching for the last Horcrux. The man was under constant "Order Surveillance" until he grew agitated and called it to a halt. Harry was attacked by Voldemort that night. Though the wizard was feeble – in a similar to state as when Harry had destroyed him the first time – he fought well. And only while dueling him did Harry find out what the last Horcrux was: it had been Luscious Malfoy's walking staff. Voldemort had laughed in his face, "You'll never get your hands on that one, boy!" Harry had sneered, knowing what Voldemort had not; that walking stick had been destroyed a year earlier in the infamous Malfoy Manor Raid. So he pointed his wand and whispered the killing curse, his voice full of venom.

Voldemort, thinking he couldn't be touched, did not defend himself and crumpled at Harry's feet. The wizarding world rejoiced, for what they hoped was the last time, at Lord Voldemort's defeat. Harry had cried. The next day, as was planned, Hermione married Dean. For, while waiting for Voldemort's return and eventual downfall, she had grown impatient, lonely even, and had rethought Dean's offer. _So basically, that where we stand now._ She thought pulling her hair into a bushy pony tail. Then she left the room to go and dry the bedding. Harry met her in the hallway, the towel wrapped around his waist, his hair sticking up on end. He put a hand on her shoulder _So much more gentle than Dean_ she thought _He would have grabbed my arm_.

"What're you doing?"

"Just getting the bedding out of the washer."

"Oh," he raised his eyebrows, "I thought something in my bedroom looked different."

She smacked him lightly on the arm before continuing to the laundry room. Then she heard him yelling down the hall, "We'll leave in 10 minutes!"


	4. A Low Growl

Title: A Low Growl  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters and or places belong to J.K. Rowling, I'm just having fun with them. No profit of any kind is being made, unless you count happiness.

* * *

Hermione didn't contact Harry for just over a month after their picnic. And as she had asked him not the contact her either, he let her be. No matter how much the danger that was Dean weighed on his conscience. He had desperately told her to stay, begged her not to leave, but she apparated right out of his arms:

_After he had dressed, the two of them packed the picnic basked together, stuffing bits of food in one another's mouths, laughing the entire time. Harry convinced Hermione to walk to the picnic spot, which was in his backyard, instead of apparating, so they could enjoy the scenery (Harry owned quite a bit of land, and his backyard was the size of a park). There were birds singing, but the previously overcast day had grown gloomy and it looked like it might rain._

_Harry carried the picnic basket, Hermione holding his free hand and talking during the walk. Harry, looking back on it, couldn't quite remember what she had said. His head had been in the clouds that day._

_But halfway through their tea, the sky opened and pearly teardrops rained down on them. The wetness seemed to shock Hermione. She blinked and dropped her cup on Harry, scalding his thigh._

_"Ahh! Hermione?"_

_For she had suddenly stood, "I've got to go, don't call on me. Dean will know."_

_He put a hand on her leg, "Don't go."_

_"I've got to. Let me be, Harry!"_

_He had risen to his knees and wrapped himself 'round her waist._

_"Stay, Hermione!" he was crying now, she could hear his voice wavering._

_"Harry! I've – got – to – go!" She struggled to get her words out as she pushed him off of herself. "Don't call, or write. Don't let on you know I exist. Just – let – go!" _

_And he did. He collapsed in a heap, their tea and lunch scattered 'bout his knees, large raindrops painting his back. "Alright," he heaved a sigh._

Still, true to his word, Harry had not contacted her. No matter the pain or worry that occurred he did as Hermione had wished and ignored her very existence.

Until, one day, he came home from grocery shopping and Hedwig was waiting with a letter clutched in her beak, sitting contentedly on his couch.

"Give us a moment then, Hedwig." He took the paper bags to the kitchen and placed them on the table. Hedwig followed him and landed on his shoulder, dropping the letter into his hand and hooting. Hermione's beautiful script had never looked more golden.

**_Harry Potter  
_**_**1616 Craike Dr  
**__**Cottage**_

He cracked open the green wax seal and pulled out a thick square of folded parchment, many pieces stuck together. As he unfolded the package, he realized that there were at least three pieces of parchment in the stack.

**_Dear Harry,  
_**_**I don't know how to tell you this, but it's something you need to hear. Something I need to say.  
**__**The consequences of our actions that night, a month back, are what you had feared. Worse, perhaps. I won't talk too much about it here, but please meet me and the Leaky Cauldron at 6:00 PM on Tuesday.**_

The rest of the letter went on about the school year the nest generation of Weasley's whom Ronald was sending along. Harry had been in touch with Ron recently and had agreed to be the Godfather of Ron's newest baby. (He and his wife were on number five) Harry was already the Godfather of the rest.

He folded the letter back up, resigned to what was coming. He wasn't sure if Hermione would give up the baby or decide to keep it, but he could tell she was anxious either way, and when Hermione was anxious, she was...well, nasty.

Sticking the letter back into the envelope, he glanced at Hedwig, who was looking at him as though it were the first time she had seen him.

"I'm a dad," He dropped the envelope, breathed deeply as the full force of the fact hit him, collapsing into a chair. "I'm a dad."

----------------

The sun was just setting when Harry looked at his watch for the sixteenth time that evening. Finally, it was five to six. He picked his keys up off the coffee table and walked out of the front door, turning to lock it before apparating to the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione was already at a table, he picked her out by her bushy hair, although her head was in her hands. Her body was shaking as though she was crying. He walked over to her slowly and placed a hand on her back.

"It's so good to see you."

She looked up and her eyes were indeed red and swollen. She wiped her lower lids and pulled out a chair for him. "It's good to see you, too, Harry. I'm sorry I told you not to contact me, I was just worried Dean might get wind of something. I guess was paranoid after...you know."

"That's alright," he lied. He turned to Tom, who had just come over, "Just a coffee. No, Tom, nothing to drink, thanks." He begged the barkeep to leave them alone. "When did you find out?"

"Well," she scooted her chair closer to the table, "I missed my period about two weeks after I left. I let it go for a week and then I was so worried I want and bought a test. I had to wok up the courage to tell you, you know?"

"Did you think I would be mad?" He raised his left eyebrow (you see, Harry could not raise his right eyebrow on its own).

"I...I didn't know how you would react."

"Well, I'm not mad, that's for sure! I'm excited, but I'm not sure what you're doing with the baby, so I'm not getting my hopes up." He slumped in his chair a little.

"Harry, I'd never do anything to this baby without your consent. I swear."

He sat a little straighter in his chair and opened his eyes a bit. "Would you consider raising it with me?"

"I'd have to leave Dean, you know. That would be hard."

"That's ok. We'll do it together."

"I wouldn't get a penny from him."

"Hermione...you know how my financial situation is."

"You'd need a bigger house."

"I know that."

"And baby stuff."

"I understand."

"And wedding rings are expensive." Her face split into a smile and Harry gasped. His heart had popped open right then and a warm sensation was spreading over his entire body. It was then that Hermione got down on one knee and put her hands on his lap.

"Harry James Potter, I love you. I have loved you since I met you. Will you do me the honor of being your wife?"

And Harry stood and picked her up, crushing her in a hug. "Of course I will." His voice was a low growl in her ear.


	5. Glaring Expectantly

Title: Glaring Expectantly  
Rated: PG-13 for violence  
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters belong to J.K. Rowling. No profit of any kind (especially fiscal) is being made.

* * *

The papers stared at her from the table, blank spaces thirsting for a name, a reason, a want. Harry had gone with her to get them, but this part she knew she had to do on her own, she didn't want to drag him into her mess.

Hermione was sitting in the living room at her house, the divorce papers sitting expectantly on the coffee table. She shook from head to toe, nervous about what Dean would do. But she was adamant. She had asked Harry to marry her and by George, she was following through. She knew it was Harry she really loved, and either way, this wasn't Dean's baby. Even if he didn't know now, he would know for sure when little Harry Potter II popped his head out into the world. He would know and he would be so much angrier than she knew he would be when he walked in the door.

She heard the back door open and then slam shut – he always came in the back door, she wasn't sure why – _Great, he's already mad, _she thought before standing hesitantly and wiping her palms on her skirt. "Hello Dean."

"Hey." He walked into the living room and dropped his cloak on the floor along with his briefcase. She sighed and bent down, picking them both up and walking over to the foyer closet, depositing them in their correct spots.

"How was work?"

"Where's dinner?" He glared at her, as though it was her duty to make him supper, his right to have it the second he walked in the door.

"I didn't make any yet." Truth was, she wasn't planning on making any at all. She had two bags packed and in the master bathroom, after she told Dean what she wanted, she would apparate from there, and she had them ready for if there was a need to run.

His face turned from the smirk he was wearing to a frown. "Why not?"

"I wasn't in the mood," and she grabbed the papers and rolled them into a tube, sitting in the easy chair across from him. She crossed her legs and started to unroll the papers.

"What do you mean you weren't in the mood? Do you think I'm in a mood to go to work every day, work my arse off for you? So you can have all this?" He swept his hand around the room, though he obviously meant their entire abode.

"Dean, you wanted this, I didn't. Now will you please sit down?" Her voice was calmly hiding her fear.

"No! I want my dinner!"

"Dean! Sit down! We need to talk!" Her cheeks were pink. And it was not the wonderful, elated blush she experienced with Harry. It was a dreadful pink, an on the verge of tears pink, and she hated it.

"What?" Had she just given him an order?

"Fine, keep standing. Sod it. I want a divorce. I wanted to be civil when I said it but-"

Her words earned her a slap. Hard. Across the face so fiercely that her eyes watered.

"What did you say to me?" His words hissed out through clenched teeth.

"I want a divorce!" She threw the papers down on the coffee table and flew, but he was to fast. He lunged across the glass surface and grasped her ankle, tripping her. Her teeth slammed into a side table, and one of the front ones fell out, tumbling to the floor in a current of red. She put a trembling hand to her mouth, collecting the blood in a pool as he clambered over the table, grabbed her arm and wrenched her back.

"A divorce? No, no, I think not." His breath was heavy in her face and she started to sob.

"Harry...Harry." The name came out in small gasps, but still he heard it.

"You want to leave me for him!?" He shoved his mouth onto hers, smashing their lips together and irritating the bruise that was already forming on her forehead. She tried to push him off, but he wouldn't let go. He grabbed onto her collar and pulled her closer.

Finally, he wrenched his head back for a breath.

"Dean, let me go!" She pushed against his chest, but he was much stronger than her. He picked her up, and carried her, bridal style, kicking and screaming to their bedroom. And through her terrified haze, she realized it had come time for plan C. She closed her eyes and imagined Harry's house.

Dean collapsed on the floor and Hermione scrambled out of his grasp. "HARRY!" Her voice was shrill, it cracked on the last note. He had to be home, this was part of the plan. Where was he? Her heart was hammering in her chest. If Harry didn't show up soon, Dean would beat her, or kill her. She fumbled in her waistband for her wand for a second before Dean grabbed her elbows, pinning them behind her back. "Going to jinx me? Oh no, you don't."

He slammed her to the floor stomach down. "Dean, get off!" She was pleading with him now, her calmness gone. "HARRY! HARRY?" Her throat was so sore, she was crying so hard and she kept swallowing blood, she was sure she was going to vomit. Dean was tearing her skirt off and she had just resigned herself to the worst when –

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" She glanced up from the carpet, Harry had just dropped his gym bag and was pointing his wand directly at Dean. "Get off of her now! Or I swear to Merlin, Dean, you'll be sorry we ever crossed paths."

Dean slowly, agitatedly climbed off of Hermione. She sat up, trying to hold onto some dignity, sniffling. Harry extended his free arm towards her. "Come here, Hermione." She got up and ran over to him, zipping up the back of her skirt and he wrapped his left arm around her. "Now Dean, you better get out of my house. I'm sure there are some papers waiting for you at home. Feel free to fill them out."

"What are you going to do, Harry? Jinx me?" Dean was seething with anger, on his hands and knees, glaring at Harry and Hermione. She had buried her face in her savior's chest and seemed to be trying desperately to melt into him. Dean could see a light redness on Harry's blue sweater.

"I'll do more than jinx, you. I'll murder you. And I don't want to go to Azkaban, but I'd do it. So you better move."

Hermione listened to Harry's heart pounding. It seemed he was just as nervous as she was. "Please, make him go."

"She wants you to leave. Now." Harry shook his wand in a threatening manner and Dean finally got the hint. He was gone with a sneer and POP.

Harry dropped his wand and turned to Hermione, grabbing her chin in his hands. "Oh, Lord. What did he do to you?" He peeled off his sweater and used his t-shirt underneath to wipe the blood off her mouth, trying to ascertain the damage. "He knocked out one of your teeth. It looks like this one's dead."

"That's ok, I never liked my teeth." She sniffed again.

He smiled sadly, "That's ok, your parents are dentists." He looked at her forehead, saw the bruise, and frowned. He leaned forward and kissed it gently. "Come on, let's get some ice on that."

She sat down at the kitchen table and listened to him rustling in the freezer. "Why were you at the gym?" she asked, thinking about what had happened. "You were supposed to be here."

"I had gone earlier and forgotten my wand in my locker. I knew I would need it if Dean came here, so I went back to get it, and decided to bring my stuff home to clean. If I had known how late I was, I would have apparated. I guess I just wasn't paying attention. Which was poor participation on my part, but no body's perfect, you know." He stood behind her and placed the ice on her forehead.

"What you need now is a nice, long rest. You're never going back to that house. I'll go get your bags for you, I want you to go take a nap in my – our bedroom, ok?"

"I'm starving," she whispered, glancing at the floor.

"Alright," he picked one of her hands up and put it on the ice pack before walking to the cupboard and looking at what he had. "Do you think soup would be alright? That's all I've really got." She nodded and he pulled it out, heated it on the stove and set it in front of her. Finally, the ice had melted.

"I don't have to tell you to make yourself at home. I'll be back soon." He kissed her on the cheek, not wanting to hurt her mouth and disappeared.


	6. Feral Lust

Title: Feral Lust  
Rating: PG 13 (for adult situations)  
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters belong to J.K. Rowling. No profit is being made.  
A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, the last week or so has been pretty busy. I made this chapter a bit longer than the rest to make up for it. Enjoy!

* * *

Harry apparated to Hermione's bathroom, hoping to avoid Dean at all costs. He knocked his shin into the porcelain toilet seat and cursed quietly, massaging the bruise that was already forming. He grabbed onto the handles of her suitcases and was just about to leave when the bathroom door creaked open. 

Dean was standing there, disheveled. He raised an eyebrow, "Think I wouldn't hear you?"

Harry dropped the suitcases and raised his wand, "No, I just didn't care."

Dean shook his head, as though scolding a four year old, "Harry, Harry...I can't believe you thought I didn't know!"

"What are you talking about?"

"She'll be lucky if that baby lives, now."

"What?" Though Harry was still trying to play dumb, he could hear his own voice wavering slightly. How was it possible Dean would know? Looking at Hermione, you'd have no idea. Hell, if she hadn't told Harry herself, he'd have no clue.

"I knew about the baby, Harry, she couldn't keep it from me forever. She told me the morning before you two got... _engaged..._" He said the final word with an angry sneer.

"What?" Harry's eyes widened and his body sagged a little. She had told him Dean had no idea, it had to be kept a secret. Why would she lie to him?

"That's right. And there's no way..._no way_ Harry Potter, that you are getting my baby. So I had to kill it."

Harry was infuriated at Hermione for telling and at Dean for knowing. He pointed his wand at Dean, jabbing it in the air to emphasize what he was saying, "Too bad, Dean Thomas. Because that baby was never yours. It's mine!"

"That's a lie!"

"It's the truth. Hermione shagged me the night after she refused you. We had a baby. And there's nothing you can do to change that!"

"You're lying!"

"Think about Dean," Harry dropped his voice, trying his best to be condescending, "When was the last time you had sex? Surely not just two months ago?"

Dean shook his head, "Shut your mouth! Just shut your sodding mouth!"

"Only because it's the truth, and you know it." Harry grasped the suitcases and disappeared with a "POP" leaving Dean in a mass of tears on the floor – feeling not the least bit bad for making a grown man cry.

When he got home, Hermione had already showered and crawled into their bed. She was wearing one of his shirts and he could see most of her clothing in the trash. Dean never seemed to have a problem tearing her belongings to trash, and Harry momentarily wondered how she had enough clothing to fill two suitcases. He set them on the floor at the foot of the bed, and walked around to her, blowing out the candle that was flickering lightly beside her head.

He pushed her drying fringe off her forehead and kissed it, before pushing down the covers, kneeling next to her, and putting his cheek on her almost flat stomach. "Please be ok, little baby. Please be alright. I'll do anything if you could just stay ok."

Hermione shifted slightly under him and put a hand in his hair, "Mm...you're home."

"Yeah. I met Dean on the way here."

"What?"

"Don't worry. He was just at your house, is all."

"Oh."

"Do you think the baby will be ok, Hermione?" He turned his head so that he was looking at her, but she was glancing out the window, still toying with his hair.

"I hope so."

Harry stood, listening to his knees crack and saw Hermione wince. "It's from all the Quidditch," he apologized calmly.

She sat up in the bed, "I suppose I should put my clothing away."

"Only if you want to. There's no hurry. Why did you tell Dean?"

His question seemed to catch her off guard and she stared at him for a moment, thinking of what to say.

"I'm not sure, it just sort of...slipped out."

"Oh." He stood dumbly at her side as she rose out of bed and pulled a suitcase onto the rumpled surface. She unzipped it slowly and was just pulling out a cloak when the doorbell rang. She glanced at Harry who shrugged. "I'll get it."

He walked down the hallway slowly and tried to pick up remnants of Dean's tussle with Hermione, though his home wasn't as bad as hers. He toed his bag out of the way and turned the doorknob, opening it to see Remus Lupin standing outside, looking quite ill.

"Remus." Harry stepped back to allow the werewolf entry and watched as he collapsed onto the sofa. "What's wrong?"

"The last transformation didn't go so well. I'm not sure why. Moony's used to not having Prongs or Padfoot around." Remus shook his head and ran a hand through his honey colored hair.

"Didn't Tonks used to stay with you until you transformed, though?"

Remus glanced at Harry out of the corner of his, "Oh, Harry. That never made any difference. Moony just wanted..."and he choked on his words. "Moony just wanted his mate."

"Sorry?" Harry sat up straight, "I thought Tonks _was_ Moony's mate?"

Remus shook his head sadly. "No," he was blushing furiously, now, "Padfoot was Moony's mate."

"Oh." Harry put his hand on Remus' shoulder and squeezed gently, "You probably just missed him a lot, Remus."

Hermione walked in, pulling a sweater on over her dress. "Who's here, Harry? Oh, hello, Remus."

"Hello, Hermione." Remus stood up and walked over to her, grabbing her in a hug. "Are you alright? You're getting a black eye." He pushed her away gently.

"I'm ok. I just...Dean wasn't very happy when I said I was leaving him. What about you? You look ill, Remus."

He collapsed back onto the couch, "I lost a lot of blood last night. I need somewhere to stay because I tore Grimmauld place apart. Do you have a guest room Harry? I hate to be a hindrance..."

"It's not a hindrance at all, Remus." Hermione stepped in front of him. "Come with me and I'll show you the room you can stay in and the bathroom. Harry, can you make Remus something to eat?"

Harry nodded and watched them walk away, thinking about what his lycanthrope friend had said. _The last transformation didn't go so well. Padfoot was Moony's mate. _Harry wasn't paying attention to what he was doing as he threw together some salad and conjured a plate of supper. Magic dinner never tasted as good as home made stuff, but Remus needed supper and fast.

Hermione brought him into the kitchen, holding him up by his arm and sat him at the table.

"Thank you both, so much."

"Do you want some coffee, Remus?"

"I'd love that."

Harry turned to the cupboard and pulled out the percolator.

"Harry, I'm going to go finish putting my stuff away. I'll see you later, Remus." Hermione smiled at the men in the kitchen.

He nodded at her and then went back to putting the coffee into the contraption. "Harry, you look so much like James. I wasn't sure if you would grow out of it or not...but..."

"Why didn't anyone ever know that Padfoot was Moony's mate?" Harry kept his back to Remus, trying not to let the man see that he was blushing.

"Sirius and I were together, too, Harry. I was a little...ashamed."

Harry spun around, spilling painfully hot water down his front, "Why?"

Remus' eyes widened. "I guess...I thought it would be too difficult for me to be gay as well as a werewolf. It was selfish, I know. I'll never stop feeling guilty for making Sirius hide our relationship, because he was just so proud of it."

Harry nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. He placed a mug in front of Remus before sitting down in a chair across from him.

"Everyone thought I should marry Ginny, so I was ashamed to tell anyone I loved Hermione. I got lucky in that we crossed paths again, but it wasn't necessarily going to be that way."

Remus shook his head, "Not everyone is so lucky."

Harry looked at him and saw something in Remus' eyes: a feral lust. And then he heard what could only be described as a growl. "I read about you in the paper, Harry. Getting transferred to Ireland's team. That's great."

Why was Remus' voice so low? "Thanks. I think I just got lucky there, too, really –"

Harry was cut off when Remus pushed the plate and mug to the side, leaping across the table at him. The man grabbed Harry's shoulders and pulled his chest towards him, latching onto his neck with his teeth. Harry felt a warm liquid running down his neck to the collar of his shirt.

He tried to push Remus off, "This isn't you, Remus! Show Moony who's boss!"

But Remus was just too strong for him and he pulled him closer, wrapping one arm around Harry's waist to hold him still, reaching the other hand down to Harry's crotch.

Harry gasped, "This isn't you Remus! Get off me! Control Moony!" He continued to try and push him off, Remus was smelling his neck, reaching his hand down Harry's pants, forcing his underwear down around his hips.

"Stop! Please! Control him!" He put both his hands on Remus chest - how he could get his hands in between the two of them, he wasn't sure – and pushed as hard as he could. "Remus, this isn't you!"

Finally, Remus calmed and crawled away from Harry, collapsing on the floor. Harry put a hand on his neck, tried to stop the blood flow. But the room was getting blurry. There were two of Remus. He stood, grabbed the back of the chair for support and fell to the floor with a loud thud, the chair clattering down on top of him.


	7. Bitten

Title: Bitten  
Rating: PG 13 (for implied sexual abuse)  
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters belong to J.K. Rowling, no profit of any kind is being made

* * *

Hermione came running into the kitchen, a sock in her hand. She glanced at Remus, blood dripping down his front, and then to Harry: unconscious on the floor. She dropped her sock and ran over to him, moved the chair. There was crimson liquid flowing over his neck, covering his chest and chin. She put her hand to the large wound and turned to Remus. "What happened?" 

"I...I couldn't help myself," he buried his head in his hands, sticky, red blood smearing into his hair. "I'm so sorry. He just had this smell about him, and...and Moony wouldn't let it be."

"It's alright Remus, it's not your fault. But he does have to get to St. Mungos, and I need you to help me."

Remus immediately rose, wanting to help right his wrong, and walked over to Harry, grabbing him under his armpit. Try as she might, Hermione couldn't help but notice his arousal. Harry's head lolled between them, swaying from shoulder to shoulder like a rag doll. Hermione wrapped herself around him, pulling Remus into an awkward group hug before apparating.

Hermione ran up to the elderly nurse, dragging Harry and Remus with her. The woman told them, between popping her gum, that Harry needed to go to the floor on which animal inflicted wounds were treated.

Harry was difficult to drag up the stairs, but Hermione had left her wand at home and Remus was too ashamed to do much but drag the limp body.

A Healer bustled around the corner and helped them get Harry into a room before lowering him into a bed. She looked for Remus to Harry, and seemed to connect the dots, just as Hermione had done.

She handed Hermione a gown and left, signaling that Hermione was to dress Harry in it. Luckily, his blood flow had slowed.

Hermione waved Remus over so he could help her lift Harry out of bed. Remus lifted Harry's head, carefully avoiding his wounds. But when Hermione started to lift his torn shirt over his head, Remus got a blank look in his eyes, promptly dropping Harry, as though he had been burned, and backing away to the over side of the room.

"Remus? What is it? What's wrong?"

"I can't. I'll jump on him again. I have to go wait outside. I'll send the Healer in to help you."

Hermione nodded sadly, wondering what was wrong. She carefully eased Harry pants off, waiting for the promised Healer to arrive. It was only then did the notice the scratch marks on his hips and around his belly button. "Oh baby, what did he do to you?" She pulled off his socks and pants, then slipped the bottom part of the gown on, trying to save him some dignity. Where was that Healer?

After folding Harry's pants and setting them on a chair, Hermione walked over to the door, and opened it, looked down the hallway. Remus was sitting in a chair, staring wide eyed at the Healer, who was talking quite sternly to him. "Should've told someone. It might've been much worse if the young man hadn't known how to stop you!"

Remus nodded and wiped under his eyes, then looked up at Hermione. He was blushing fiercely and quickly glanced away. "Go downstairs to the lady at the help desk. She'll get you set up with a potion that should set this straight." Remus nodded and rose from his chair, and suddenly, the Healers demeanor changed. She looked at Hermione, smiling in a warm, maternal fashion.

"Have you finished dressing him yet, dear?"

"Not quite. I can't get his shirt off of him by myself."

"Oh, of course you can't. It was silly of me to think..." The Healer walked towards her and Hermione finally got a glimpse of her name badge. "Garelda Hartisf"

The lady lifted Harry with one hand and used the other to swiftly remove his shirt. "Tsk Tsk. A werewolf bite, when the wolf is in human form, is not as bad as that of a fully transformed werewolf, but they take time to heal. First we'll give him some blood replenishing potion and when he awakes, we'll administer the wolfsbane."

"Wolfsbane?"

"Tis a potion, my dear."

"I know," Hermione shook her head irritably. "But it's only given to werewolves before the full moon, isn't it?"

"No, dear. It's been discovered to heal the wound caused by a werewolf bite, transformed or not, much faster than any other potion."

"Oh. Alright then. Do you know when he should wake up?"

"Soon after I administer the first of the blood replenishing potion, my dear."

MEANWHILE:

Remus walked down the stairs, looking at the different Healers. All of them seemed to follow him with their eyes, knowing, even in their pictorial state that he had committed a crime. He tried to avoid their stares, but couldn't help glancing at one or two of them.

When he got downstairs, he saw two aurors, waiting, their wands ready. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't pay them much more thought, figuring they were there to escort someone. That is, until they grabbed his arms.

"What's going on?" He struggled against them. Breathing heavily, trying to break free.

Their grips were too strong, even though he was a lycanthrope; Remus had always been a small man. "Stop it! What's going on?!" He flailed, kicking his legs back and forth.

They were about to carry him away when Hermione came flying down the stairs, sliding around the corner, "Stop!"

The aurors turned to glare at her. "Pardon?"

"I said stop! He hasn't done anything!"

"Excuse me? He's bitten Harry Potter!"

"And what's the idiot that's told you that?"

They dropped him and he collapsed, crying, on the floor.

"A Healer. Works here. Hartisf. That's who."

"Well, I assure, he has done nothing of the sort. Harry was bitten by another werewolf, Remus happened to be a friend of ours and came along to help me."

"Why's he got blood all on 'im then?"

"Well, he's been carrying Harry, hasn't he? I've got blood on me, too," she realized for the first time.

The auror seemed to get the picture, and conceded, giving Remus a small, inconspicuous kick in the side. "Right then, sorry 'bout the inconvenience and all that."

Hermione glared at him as she walked over and helped Remus up, the man was wincing and rubbing his side. He whispered in her ear, "He kicked me."

She was reminded of a young boy, telling on his older brother, but still, she thought he had his rights to be needy. He had almost been thrown into Azkaban for something he had no control over. The aurors disapparated and Hermione groaned. "Where is that Healer?!?!"


	8. Alread Mated

Title: Already Mated  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters belong to JK Rowling, no copyright infringement is intended and no profit of any sort is being made.

* * *

She walked back up the stairs, supporting Remus on her left side and dropping him into a chair in the hallway, before pushing Harry's door open. The Healer was holding his head up with one hand and was pouring the blood replenishing potion down his throat with the other. She laid him back down, and Hermione waited until she had put down the glass before having her outburst. 

"How dare you?!" She wheeled on the Healer as soon as she turned around. "How dare you call an auror on him?" She pointed fiercely at the door and Hartisf looked at her.

"Isn't it obvious?" She wiped her hands on her skirt and smiled, "He bit Harry Potter. The famous Harry Potter. He needs to pay."

Hermione glared at her, "He's Harry's friend! And if Harry knew what you almost did – what you tried to do – he would have you out of this hospital IMMEDIATELY!"

The woman shook her head patronizingly and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, "And how would you know that?"

"I'm his wife!"

"I don't see a ring."

"Argh!" Hermione let out an animalistic yelp and jumped on the Healer, knocking her down.

"Hermione! Hermione!"

Jolted from the fight, Hermione looked up at Harry, who had obviously only, just woken. He coughed and sat himself up and Hermione stood immediately, walking over to him, forgetting about the woman sitting on the ground, nursing a small cut on her own arm.

"How are you feeling? Are you alright? What happened?"

Harry shook his head, "Hermione? What's going on?"

Hermione ran a shaking hand through his hair and bent down so that they were level with each other. "Harry, this woman – your Healer – tried to get Remus sent to Azkaban for biting you."

"Why would you do that?" His voice was quiet, as though he were hurt by her actions. He looked over Hermione's shoulder at the woman, who stood.

"He bit you! I felt sure that you would not want him roaming free!"

"You can't arrest a werewolf for biting someone!" Hermione shrieked, but Harry put a hand on her shoulder.

"Calm down. Where's Remus? Is he safe?"

"Yes."

Harry looked analyzingly at the Healer, and then sighed. "I would like another Healer, please. I fear my wife has lost faith in you."

The woman shook her head, but whispered, "Alright."

Harry stopped her on her way out the door, "And that man you were so cruel to? Please send him in."

The Healer walked out, ringing her wand between both of her hands and Harry heard her talking to Remus. He looked at Hermione, who smiled sadly at him as a chair squeaked. Remus, his head down, walked in. He slowly slinked over to Harry's side and stared at his friend's belly-button.

"Harry, I...I don't know what to say, I'm so sorry."

Harry lifted his arm, brushed Remus' with his hand, "It's alright. Hey, it's ok." Remus looked at him, his eyes glistening with tears, "I was scared this would happen! I was scared I would hurt someone! And what if I had been in my Weren form? I could have _killed _you. Or worse, turned you into a werewolf!"

"But you didn't," Harry persisted, rising a little. His pillow fell to the small of his back and crunched under him, Hermione rubbed the skin showing through the opening in the gown. "You didn't hurt me, or turn me into a werewolf, Remus."

"I didn't hurt you? You're in St. Mungos taking blood replenishing potion! Merlin, Harry, I thought you were smart!" Remus buried his head in his hands again, and Harry blushed, seeing that his friend was sobbing.

Hermione moved over to him, wrapping her arms around him, "It's ok, Remus. Harry's not a werewolf. And even if he was, we would deal with that. You didn't do anything that can't be fixed. Harry will be well by tonight, and when we go home, you're coming with us. Tomorrow, you and I can go and fix Grimmauld place, hm?" She traced small circles on his back as though cooing a small child. His sobs seemed to subside, and he looked at Harry.

The man in the bed nodded his consent, and that seemed to be enough for Remus. "I'll go get some food," he smiled weakly.

"Hermione, give Remus some money?" She nodded and headed over to where Harry's pants were folded, reaching into one of the back pockets, pulling out a leather pouch, and expanding it back to its normal size.

"No, really, it's ok." Remus put his hand up as she moved to drop a few galleons in his hand. "I want to pay you back for...everything."

Hermione shook her head and forced the money into his hand then shooed him off. She turned, once the door was closed, dropped the coin bag and ran over to Harry. She jumped on the bed and latched her hands around his shoulder – avoiding his injured neck – and drove her face into his chest.

"I was so scared you would die! I was just waiting until we were alone." She was obviously crying too... why was everyone crying? Harry ran a hand through her hair, wrapping his arm around her.

"I'm alright, Hermione. Look at me." He cupped her face and pulled her up to look at him. He swiped a stray tear off her face with the pad of his thumb, "I'm fine, just a little weak. You said so yourself. I'll be home by tonight." She smiled sadly and nodded, snuggling into his chest and wrapping her arms around his torso. Harry sighed and closed his eyes.

Remus sighed outside the door, slumping down against the wall, crying silently. He had known for a long time this day would come. He had known he couldn't keep Moony locked away forever. Sirius had known it, too. Moony was ready to claim a new mate. The only problem was, said mate was already mated off...


	9. I'm A

Title: I'm A...  
Rating: R (for non-graphic rape)  
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characaters belong to JKR and no copyright infringment is intended. No profit of any kind is being made (except for the pure joy of getting to write this!)  
A/N: Hey guys, two posts in one night: SHOCKER! I just couldn't get this out of my head, and I hope you don't mind. Please don't kill me for doing what I had to do!

* * *

A new Healer was sent up, as Hartisf was sent to her Head-Healer's office to be reprimanded. As the young man replacing her walked towards Harry's room, he noticed a man outside of it, sitting as though lightly dozing. He put the figure out of his mind as he entered the man's room.

"Mr. Potter?" Harry was alone in his bed, reclining and reading the Daily Profit. He folded it before acknowledging the boy's presence.

"Yes?"

The boy was nervous as it was, being in his hero's company made him shake. "Uh...I'm...er...your replacement Healer. My...uh...my name's Jerald Malfoy."

"A Malfoy, huh?" Harry smiled slyly and held out his hand to shake Jerald's.

"Yes sir."

"No need to call me sir. Harry's fine. So what's the news?"

"Well...Harry...we looked into it, cases where human form lycanthropes bite people aren't so common. Hartisf was correct in that you wouldn't be werewolf, but..."

"But what?"

"There's some kind of infection spreading, if I do a spell test, I can show you what I mean." Harry nodded his consent and the boy pulled back his comforter. He pointed his wand at Harry's chest, and mumbled a spell Harry couldn't quite make out. A purple ribbon seemed to squirm out of the tip of the wand and shot at Harry's chest. There was a momentary pain, before Harry looked down, and little purple beads were lighting his skin.

"You see, sir – ah, Harry – those light beads you're seeing represent a foreign body infiltrating your system. There's some virus in there, but we can't figure out what it is or how to get rid of it."

"Well, I feel fine."

"And you seem to check out. We've just got to do some more research before we let you go."

Though agitated by the current circumstances, Harry could understand that this young man was doing all he could. So he nodded and the boy turned to leave. Suddenly he stopped and turned around.

"I wanted to thank you for trying to save my half brother, Draco. We weren't close, in fact, I only met him once. But I knew he was your enemy. It only shows you really are pure at heart, as he told me."

"I'm sorry. You're Draco's brother? I thought you were his son. I didn't know Luscious remarried?"

"He didn't. My mother, Narcissa, chose to take the muggle path and had me with a sperm donation. She gave me her husband's name, who was still Luscious, then. I am a Malfoy."

"Oh. That's surprising. I knew Draco had one son before his death came."

"I've never met him. Draco's wife does not believe my mother loved Draco, so I never see her either."

"Oh."

The boy nodded and turned to leave again, before turning around quickly again. "Did you know? There's a man sitting outside your door?"

"No. Thank you." The boy finally left and Harry rose out of his bed, slowly. Still, the potions he had previously taken made him strong enough to stand on his own. He shuffled over to the door and it opened. He knelt down next to Remus, lifted the man's face with one fist, using the other hand to hold the back of his gown shut.

"Remus? Remus, my friend? Wake up."

Remus breathed in, and looked up at Harry, sleepily blinking. "I guess I lost track of time."

"Hermione went looking for you. I'm sure she'll be back soon when she doesn't find you. Come, you can sit somewhere more comfortable than the floor, I think. Though I'm not making any promises." He smiled at his last comment and helped Remus rise, the two of them leaning on each other for support.

They both fell, sitting, onto the ruffled bed surface. "How long were you out there?"

"I...I left and sat there. I was thinking...No...Hermione should be here when I ask you this."

"Ask me what?"

"I have a favor to ask you."

"Whatever you want! Name it."

"No, this is not to be taken lightly Harry. It's Hermione's decision, too."

"Alright, we'll wait." After a moment of awkward silence, "What's new?"

"Nothing. Are you okay?"

"The doctors said I have some sort of virus, but I feel fine. They're trying to find out what it is."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"That's alright. It's not hurting me."

"Right."

"Have you been to see Molly, lately? Perchance?"

"No. I haven't. I should have gone to see her before the full moon, she and Tonks always seem to worry about me."

"Did you want to send them an owl, let them know you're alright?"

"But I'm not," Remus let out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding. "I'm not alright. I'm terrible. I'm awful! And it's all your fault!"

"Mine? My fault?" Harry touched his own chest lightly, prodding at himself.

"Yes, yours!" Remus pressed his palms to his temples, trying to ignore the blinding pain he was in.

"What did I do?"

"You were you! The way you smell, the way you talk, the way you act, it's driving Moony insane! And he needs to take a new mate now that Sirius is gone! He _wants_ you!"

Harry stared at Remus for a moment before pushing a stray lock of raven hair out of his eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't understand. Wouldn't a werewolf want a mate of a different gender?"

"Not if the lycanthrope is gay!" Remus was crying again. He pulled a bit on his golden-grey hair and stared imploringly at Harry. "You're supposed to be my mate. I can feel it."

"I...I can't be your mate Remus. There's no way I'm supposed to be your mate."

"I know that! But earlier...when I attacked you...it felt so...right."

"Remus..."

"I know you aren't my mate! You don't have to tell me again!" He stood up and was glaring at Harry, his eyes shining manically. Harry pushed himself towards the headboard.

"Remus, please calm down. I know you're aggravated. I understand. Please, just..."

"No, you don't understand Harry. You never will!" And just as Remus was about to leave – leave Harry for good because he couldn't handle the pain anymore – his spine stiffened. He turned and again, jumped on Harry.

Harry tried to push him off, just like before. Screaming, "This isn't you, Remus! Please!"

But the circumstances, the open space, Harry's gown, the bed, made his job easier. Harry was weak from the previous attack, and with a thick growl, Remus flipped him. Harry strained, his muscles writhing under Remus' body.

"Stop it!" He was pushing against the mattress, trying to topple Remus off of him. He heard Remus undoing his zipper, shimmying his pants off, climbing on top of Harry. "Stop, Remus, you're really going to hurt me if you do this. Don't let the beast take over! This isn't you!" He struggled, but suddenly felt a burning sensation as Remus entered him. "Arghhh!" Harry gripped the bedding around him tightly, pressing his eyelids together as tears worked their way down his face. He couldn't speak anymore.

Remus didn't take long to finish, and when he did, he jumped off of Harry as though he had touched fire. "I...I have to go!"

Harry flipped himself over, wincing as he did it, "No, don't go! Don't leave! You wanted to talk, we'll talk! You did what you had to do."

"No...No...I'm sorry. I have to go."

"Stay!" Harry jumped up and latched onto Remus.

"Harry, let me go!"

"No! You're staying here!"

Remus grabbed Harry's wrists and pushed the man off, shoving him to the floor. "Let me be Harry! I've already ruined your life enough!" And he apparated. Disappeared. Left.

Harry stared at the spot where his friend had stood for a long time, sitting back on his hands and silently crying. Not sure of what had just happened, he had no clue what to do. That was until his Healer came back. Harry composed himself, swiping the tears off his face quickly and looked up at the Healer from his spot.

"I guess your friend left?"

Harry nodded curtly.

"Sorry. Um...yes...well, we found out some very good news, Mr. Potter! The virus that runs through your blood is only one half of the Weren virus. So unless you are bitten by the same werewolf, or the virus enters your bloodstream in the next 72 hours, you'll be fine. Otherwise, and this doesn't seem likely, does it? You'll become a full fledged Lycanthrope."

"Wait. Um...so, my kids would be werewolves too?"

"I'm sorry?"

"He just...my friend? He...well, let's say the virus just entered my system a second time."

"Oh. Oh...I..." The Healer blushed, "I'm so sorry. I suppose I'm just the bearer of bad news today, Mr. Potter." The boy hung his head.

"No, it's fine. I don't care. As long as I'm not going to be having werewolves for children."

"No. No, you won't. Because as I said, if you are bitten by a lycanthrope who has not transformed...or...ahem...have sexual intercourse with one...you only receive half of the virus. Unless it enters your bloodstream a second time within a 72 hour period, you'll be fine."

"So my wife? My offspring?"

"They'll be fine."

Harry nodded and rose from his spot on the floor. He shook the young man's hand and smiled sadly. "Thank you so much for all of your help, today Jerald. Am I free to go?"

"Yes, sir."

"You wouldn't have seen my wife recently?"

"I have, actually. She was walking down the hall. Would you like me to get her?"

"No, I'll give her time. Thank you, though."

Jerald nodded and said his goodbyes before leaving. With that, Harry peeled off his gown and started donning his clothes.

As he was doing the zipper of his pants up, Hermione walked in. She smiled at him and sat on the bed. "I saw the Healer in the hallway, he said you got to go home now. Did you find out where Remus was? I couldn't find him anywhere."

Harry pulled his sweater over his head and walked over to Hermione. "Yes, I found him. He never left, he was right outside my room. Hermione, he wanted to mate with me. He raped me."

Hermione gasped and ran a hand through Harry's hair. "Oh my God."

"I'm fine. I'm in a little pain, but I'm fine, really. But, I've got some bad news..."

Hermione wiped at a tear that was starting to fall down her nose, "What could be worse than that?"

"I'm a werewolf."


	10. Reading

Title: Reading  
Rating: PG (for adult sitiuations)  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, and I'm not pretending to.  
A/N: Thought you guys might like to see what Harry's house/cottage looked like. I drew out a floor plan, if you want to see it. No obligation – enjoy. **Edit** Of course it won't let me put it on. I'll put it on my profile for those of you who _really_ want to see it!

* * *

You're a...a...werewolf? But...how?" Tears worked their way down her cheeks and Harry hastily wiped them away with his thumbs. He moved in to kiss her, soft lips on soft lips and Hermione wrapper her arms around him. Suddenly, Harry pulled back.

"You've got your teeth?!"

Hermione waved a hand and blushed lightly. "I was walking down the hallway, looking for Remus, and a healer saw me. She just waved her wand and it was all back to normal." She smiled sheepishly, "What do you think?"

"I think...you're beautiful no matter what. But, if you wanted your teeth back, I'm glad you got them." Slowly, Harry rose off his knees, listening to them crack lightly. Hermione winced but Harry just shook his head, smiling, "Quidditch, remember?"

"It's just hard to get used to."

"We should go home. We can talk there."

Hermione nodded and the quickly disaparated. They reappeared in the kitchen and Harry's stomach dropped. "I...I bled that much?"

Hermione put a hand on his, running her thumb over his, "More."

Harry blanched and swayed on his feet, falling into a chair. "No wonder Remus ran away."

"Harry! Don't talk like that. You need him more now than ever."

"I know I do. But can you imagine seeing someone bleed like that?"

"I'll clean it up. You go take a shower."

So he left and Hermione reached into her pocket for her wand and found nothing before remembering it was in her bedroom. She walked in, not bothering to knock. Harry was throwing his pants onto a pile of dirty clothes.

"Don't you have a basket you put them in?"

He nodded as he unbuttoned a linen shirt, "It's in with the washing machine. I just take them after my shower."

"Oh." She opened her nightstand drawer and pulled out her wand and smiled as he pulled off his boxers.

"What?" He blushed lightly and started to turn.

"Nothing," she said, stepping closer, her voice husky. She ran a finger over his jaw line, "I like this." She rested her hand on his chest and he breathed out slowly.

"Me, too."

"Even in all the years Dean and I were married, he never looked at me quite like you do."

Harry smiled sadly. He put his hand on top of hers before she dropped her wand, running her finger over the faded bite mark, "I can't believe..."

"He didn't mean to."

"I know." She leaned forward and put her forehead on his shoulder. "Doesn't it still bother you? Even a little?"

Harry shook his head, "I mean, maybe a bit. But I know it wasn't really him."

"I guess so."

Harry squeezed her around the waist before stepping away, "I'd better go take that shower."

She nodded, "I ought to go tidy the kitchen. You must be starving. You want some food?"

"Yeah, I am hungry," he spoke to her from the bathroom doorway, "I'd lover something to eat."

Hermione nodded, smiling, and walked down the small hallway, through the living room and into the kitchen. She moved a chair out of the sticky blood and siphoned it up with her wand. She then moved the chair back and siphoned Remus' bloody hand prints up. "What to make?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Soup, I guess. He won't be able to hold much in." She pulled out a small bag of potatoes and started cutting.

Halfway through her preparation, she felt a set of hands clasp around her waist.

"Eep!" She shrieked, dropping her knife. "Harry, are you _trying _to give me a heart attack?!"

She swung around, and there he was: wearing a lopsided grin and pajamas.

"No...Sorry. What're you making?"

"Just soup. I wasn't sure if you could handle something substantial."

"Thanks," he sat down at the table, easing himself into one of the rickety chairs. "Um...we need to talk."

"About what?"

"Er...Is the baby ok?"

Hermione's face fell, "Let talk about that now. I've had enough stress for one day."

"I just want to know if my baby is ok. Do _you _know?"

"I don't know if it's perfect." She bowed her head.

"But it's alive?"

"I believe so...yes. There's no evidence to the contrary."

Harry grabbed her hand, "That's all that matter."

She grimaced – an attempt at a sad smile – at him and turned back to her soup ingredients. "So, when's your next match?"

"In a week. I just got the owl recently."

"Oh? Where is it?"

"In Reading."

"Reading?"

"Some little town. I've never heard of it either."

"Against who?"

"Bulgaria."

"Viktor will be there," she bit her lip, turning around.

"Do you want to come?"

"Where?"

"To Reading."

"Reading?"

"Yes, Hermione. To see Viktor."

"Viktor?"

"Hermione, is everything ok?"

"Um...yeah. Sure, I'll come with you."

"Great. We'll make a trip of it. That is, unless, you have to go to Hogwarts?"

"No...No, of course not." She wrung a dish towel between her hands, turning back to the counter.

Harry stood up and positioned himself behind her, his hands on her shoulders. "Love? Are you sure you're alright? You seem..._shaken_. Have you been to Reading before?"

She dropped the dish towel and put her hands on his. Slowly, she sighed before backing into him, pulling his arms around her. "Yes. Everything alright. I _am _a bit shaken. No, I haven't been to Reading before."

"Why are you upset? Did I do something wrong?"

"No. Of course not. It's just...It's silly."

Harry turned her around, and grabbed her by the shoulder, bending a bit to look her directly in the eyes. "What is it? Whatever it is, it's not silly."

"Really, I'm making a big deal over nothing."

"What's wrong, Hermione?"

"When I dated Ron...Well, you know how he was about Viktor. Then, Dean was worse. I'm not used to being able to speak of him – let alone _see _him."

"Oh."

"Told you it was silly," she twirled a lock of curly, brown hair around her finger.

"Not at all. Ron never hit you, did he?" Harry's eyes narrowed.

"What? Ron? Hit me? No, never. Viktor just made him so _jealous_ and I hated seeing him unhappy."

"Good. I'd really hate to have to kick my best mate's arse." He leaned in to kiss her as he chuckled and she felt his laughter in her throat.

"So, can I make dinner now?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll go...do something."

"Alright, I'll call you when it's ready."


	11. Continuity

Hey guys! Just reading over the story, and I noticed a couple "could-be" continutity mistakes, if you noticed them, too, cookies for you! First, in the first chapter Hermione's wand is broken, but later on, she has one again! Which would be shockingly terrible for me, error-wise, except that we all know Hermione is an intelligent witch and would have bought one at first notice! Second, Harry and Hermione use the _spare _bathroom in the beginning, not his. In reality, this is because I hadn't planned on Harry having an ensuite - so we will just say, to save face, that his shower was broken and he was in no mood to fix it. Last, there's the fact that Harry sold Grimmauld place and Remus is now living in it (if you noticed that). This is no error, you will eventually find out what's going on there. Alright, that's my little note to you all. The next chapter will be up by tomorrow night - thanks for reading so diligently!


	12. A Knock on the Door

Title: A Knock On The Door  
Rating: R (for sexual situations)  
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters belong to JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made.  
A/N: No worries, no worries, there is a method to my madness.

* * *

Harry was in the guest bathroom when she called him, doing as he had promised and dumping his clothes into the basket.

"Harry?! Supper's ready!"

He padded down the hallway, found her smiling at him, a dripping wooden spoon in her hand. He raised an eyebrow, the smirked, walking up to her and grabbing her in a hug. "I haven't done anything wrong, have I?" he teased, his voice low.

Hermione tapped him lightly, "We'll have to see about that." She then turned and wriggled from his grasp, walking away. He grabbed on to her shirt and pulled her towards him. She raised an eyebrow – he was holder her pressed to his body, his breath tickling her neck.

"I never said thank you. So...thank you."

Her eyebrow went higher, "For what?"

"For everything. For loving me, for leaving Dean, for saving my life, for having my baby – "

"Ok! I get it. And you're welcome." She stood on tiptoe, kissing him lightly on the nose, "And thank _you_. Now, let's go eat."

"No, I don't want to eat."

"What? But I..." She waved the spoon in the general direction of the kitchen.

"We'll heat it up later," he ran his hand up the back of her shirt, hands fiddling with the clasp of her bra. His mouth was on hers, crushing her lips. He got her bra undone, stepped back to take off her top.

"Wait," her breathing was erratic, it was difficult for her to speak. "We shouldn't be doing this, you need rest."

"No, I don't. I'm fine." He was pushing her arms up, her resolve was dying.

"Harry..." Finally, she gave up, letting him tug the offending garment off. He pushed her towards the couch, still crushing her mouth. She moaned quietly into his throat, pushing his pajama bottoms off with her feet. She lay down and he was on top of her, straddling her. She pushed off his shirt and he tucked his fingers into her waist band, pulling her pants off.

She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down, breathing on his face. Their lips connected again and her tongue explored his mouth. He pushed himself up. One hand on either side of her head, breathing heavily and pushed all his weight onto his left and. He used his free, right hand to push a stand of hair out of her eyes.

Her face was pink with blush; she sighed and shifted her hips under him. A low growl escaped her lips, "Harry..."

He lifted his hips off of her and then entered her. Her knees rose around his thighs and he started planting kissed on her neck and chest. Her chest rose and fell heavily. Their rhythms started to move together, her hands curled in his ebony locks. He lost himself; his kisses faltered, and he barely kept himself from collapsing on her.

Instead, he rolled towards the end of the couch, Hermione bringer her knees up to give him room. Then she scooted towards him on her knees and he opened his arms for her. She leaned her head on his chest and he slowly rubbed circles over her small back.

"Are you tired?" She looked up at him, her eyes half lidded.

"Just a little," He yawned, reclining with her on him.

Playfully, she smacked his arm, "I told you: you needed rest."

He shook his head, "I'm fine. Not sick, just a little sleepy."

She played with the sparse hair on his chest, "Will you read to me?"

"I think I could do that. Wait here?"

She nodded before he rose, handing her and orange blanket and she pulled it around herself. While he was picking out a book, Hermione watched the fire ignite and smiled, "Harry! You shouldn't send spells that far!"

He chuckled, walking back into the living room, a book in his hands. She lifted the blankets and he sat nest to her before pulling them back.

"What'd you get?"

"Muggle book I'm reading. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all." She settled herself on him and he cracked open the book, a small piece of paper falling out from between the pages. It fluttered to his feet as he began.

"So, basically, as far as I've gotten, there's a world of wizards and elves, along with these little guys called Hobbits..."

--------------------

Hermione had fallen asleep on Harry, her breathing even and relaxed. He was curled in a protective position around her, snoring lightly; their book and fallen – forgotten – on the floor.

Suddenly, there was a heavy knock on the door, Harry shook awake and Hermione lazily blinked sleep out of her eyes. Harry picked up his boxers off the floor, leaving Hermione with the blanket to cover up.

He walked through the foyer and opened the door, only to be shoved up against the wall. A muggle police man was holding his hands down.

"Frisk 'im."

"I'm not wearing anything!"

The second cop looked at the first one questioningly, and finally, he nodded in defeat.

"What's going on?" Hermione's quiet voice rung through, she was wearing the blanket like a toga. Mentally, Harry tried to tell her to run – only to remember that she wasn't a legilimens.

"Mr. Harry Potter?" The cop looked him up and down, and suddenly, Harry felt _very_ naked in his boxers. He nodded slowly.

"You are under the arrest for the murder of a Mr. Remus Lupin."

"What?!" Harry shook his head, "That can't be! I just saw him today! He's alive!"

The police officer grunted, "That's what they all say." He flipped Harry around and pressed the man's cheek against the wall, clicking a set of handcuffs over his wrists. Harry watched, out of the corner of his eye, as the cop leered at Hermione.

"You might wanna cover up, miss. Mighty cold out. Wouldn't want to get a chill."

Hermione pulled the blanket tighter around herself and glared at him. "Harry hasn't done anything. You haven't got any proof."

"Gotta take him miss, it's the law."

"No! Harry!"

"It's fine, Hermione. It's fine. I'll be fine." He nodded at her as they led him out of the house.


	13. Maybe You Prefer the Term Rape?

Title: Maybe You'd Prefer the Term "Rape"?  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters belong to JKR. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit of any kind is being made.

* * *

Hermione watched as the cops dragged Harry out side. _Why isn't he struggling? _

Harry whipped his head around to look at her and the cop grabbed his chin. "Keep yer head straight, hear?"

"Hermione! Close the door! Go get dressed! Go!"

She blinked, but did what he told her. As soon as he heard the door snap shut, Harry started to flail.

"You've got no reason to take me in!" His legs were kicking out, his arms twisting in the police officer's grip.

"Calm down!"

"Let me go and I will!" Harry was struggling, he knew he should stop or some magic might leak out. But he couldn't. _Remus can't be dead. Remus can't be dead._

Hermione watched from the window, biting her fist, crying quietly. _Should I stun them? Should I stun _him

The police officer tried to calm him down, but he wouldn't stay still. They shoved him into the back of the cop car, banging his head on the top of the car. He pushed the heel of his palm against the burning wound, grabbed onto the grill separating him from the officers with his free one.

"Let me out!" He scratched at the door for a handle, didn't find one. "Let me out, or something will happen!"

"Whatcha gonna do?" The first cop turned around, "Spit on us?" He chuckled a little at his joke.

"Argh!!" Suddenly the back door flew open, both police officers turning their heads. Harry jumped out of the backseat, onto the road. He closed his eyes, "Home, home, home," he was whispering quietly and disappeared just as the car spun around.

"Harry?!" Hermione heard the pop, ran into the living room in a pair of jeans. "Oh, Harry! What's going on?"

"I don't know, Hermione." His breath was heavy as he stood off, brushing his shins off, they were bleeding.

"Come into the bedroom, I'll heal some of that up." She grabbed his hand and led him into the bedroom, pushing him down on their bed.

"So what do we do?" she asked as she pulled out her wand.

"We need to...Ahh," he hissed through his teeth as she healed the first wound, the rather large one near his temple, "We need to make the house unplottable and invisible to muggles. Then we'll just apparate to wizard locations. It's not like either of us have muggle jobs, anyway."

Hermione nodded sadly. "But, we need to find Remus. I don't get what's going on."

"How will we find him?" Harry rubbed his forehead as Hermione healed the rest of the wounds.

"I don't know, but I bet we can find out what's going on if we watch the news tomorrow. Your parents have a TV, don't they?"

"Yes," she nodded slowly.

"Can we go there tomorrow?"

"I'm sure they won't mind."

-----------------------

They apparated to the Granger's front door, Harry was wearing a cloak so no one would have the chance of seeing him. Hermione knocked quickly on the door, hoping her parents were already awake.

Her mother answered the door in a dressing gown. "Hermione? Honey, what are you doing here?"

"Can we come in, mum? It's a it of a problem to be outside."

"Who are you with?"

"You'll know when we get inside."

Harry lifted his head a little so Hermione's mom could see his face. She smiled and pulled them both in. After closing the door, she took Hermione's jacket and Harry's cloak. "What's with all the secrecy?" She was smiling, as though she thought it might be a joke.

"Mom, we need to talk. You might want to sit down. Where's dad?"

"Left for work early." She waved a hand as she led them to the living room, pushing the couple onto a couch. "Coffee? Tea?"

Hermione shook her head. She groped for Harry's hand and finally found it. "I told you Harry and I are engaged?"

"Yes..." Her mom furrowed her brow, obviously confused.

"Right, just making sure. Harry's friend, Remus..."

"The werewolf?"

"Yes."

Harry interjected, "How'd you know?"

Hermione turned to Harry, squeezing his hand, "The year Sirius escaped I cam home and told my parents all about it." Harry nodded.

"Well, he bit Harry...basically turned him into a werewolf."

Hermione's mom put a hand to her mouth, gasped in shock.

"And then, the muggle police came and told Harry he was under arrest, but he got away from them, so basically-"

"I'm holding an escaped convict in my house!?"

"Oh mother, don't be so dramatic. Harry didn't _do _anything. We just need to watch the news to see what's going on, how careful we need to be."

"I...I won't be in trouble for having him here?"

"No one will know unless you tell them."

Harry hung his head, "Sorry to be a burden, Mrs. Granger."

"I just...no, it's fine. No problem. Did you want something to eat?"

Both Harry and Hermione shook their heads. "Thanks, though. We're just gonna go watch TV."

--------------

After a day of watching the news (with nothing significant to report), Harry and Hermione were surrounded by pop cans, a couple plates which had presented sandwiches, and they were cuddled together on the floor. Harry started to get up, stretched and yawned. "Hermione, we've been watching for almost 12 hours now, and we haven't seen anything."

"I know. We might as well just head home."

"I've got to go to the bathroom."

She nodded as she started picking up the plates, stacking the cans on them. As Hermione walked down the hallway, she heard her mother talking in the kitchen. She walked into the yellow room, cocked an eyebrow at her mother while setting the dishes in the sink.

Her mom put one hand on the receiver and looked at Hermione, "It's Nana."

"Oh, let me say hi!"

"Mom, Hermione wants to talk to you. She brought her fiancé over for the day. Yeah, she is. Okay, here you go."

Hermione took the phone from her mom, "Hi, Nana! It's been so long! Yes, I know, I should have called you right away, but I work at a boarding school with no phones, remember?"

Harry walked in, kissed Hermione on the cheek and smiled as he sat down. Hermione's mom sat across from him, "Any news?"

"Nothing, yet," he frowned and rubbed his forehead, "but I'm sure they wouldn't warn the public since they don't have any hard proof."

Hermione's dad walked in, he seemed to have changed into sweats since he had come home (but Harry wasn't sure when that was). He walked over to his wife, put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her on the lips.

"And who's this?" He looked inquiringly at Harry.

Harry suddenly stood, wiping off his jeans out of habit. "Uh, hi. I'm Harry Potter, Hermione's fiancé." He shook Mr. Granger's hand, and he was sure that the grip was a little harder than it needed to be.

"You're the guy," Mr. Granger turned around, gave his daughter a small squeeze and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. He sat down at the table, snapping it open so it let out a small hiss of air. "You better treat her right."

Harry nodded before Hermione tapped her mom, "Okay, I love you, too, Nana. Yes, I'll be in touch." She handed her mother the receiver, and she took up from where she had left off. Hermione sat between Harry and her dad.

"Hi, Daddy. How are you doing?"

"Alright, then. He's treating you well?"

"Daddy! Of course he is."

"Just making sure he's not getting you pregnant before you're married or anything. I don't know why you had to leave Dean, he was such a nice boy."

Harry blanched, squeezed Hermione's hand under the table. Suddenly, she shot up. "We've got to go, Daddy. Mum, thanks for letting us stay." She kissed her parents quickly and ushered Harry out of the kitchen.

As they were getting their cloaks, he glared at her, "You didn't tell them?"

"Oh yeah, I'm really going to say, 'Mum, Dad, my husband is abusive and Harry always save me. Plus, we just had sex, so I'm leaving Dean and marrying him, seeing as I'm pregnant and all that."

"You could have told them Dean beat you."

"Oh Harry, he didn't _beat _me."

"Oh yeah? I seem to recall quite vividly on walking in on a beating, unless you prefer the term 'rape'."

Hermione glared at him, tears filling her eyes. She smacked him, "How could you be so crass?"

He frowned. "I'm sorry." Looking at his shoes, he grabbed her hand and they side-along apparated home.

"Look, I know that was a terrible thing to say, it just gets hard sometimes." He rubbed his neck as she pulled off her cloak, holding out her hand for his. "I really am sorry."

Hermione shook her head, looking at him, still teary eyed. "I forgive you Harry, I do. The only problem about saying those things, is that it's not that you don't mean them, you just don't normally let them slip."

"But didn't mean it!"

"You had to be thinking it to say it." She slumped down on the couch and he stood in front of her.

"No. I thought that you were silly for not telling your parents. I was mad that you had to carry that burden all alone. I was hurt that your dad thought Dean was better than me. It was fair of me to talk about that. You aren't ready yet." He knelt down in front of her and put his head on her lap, his hands around her hips.

She started running her fingers through his hair, "When I am, you'll be the first to know. Then, we'll tall my parents just _how _great you are compared to him.


	14. Copper

Title: Copper  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters belong to JKR. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit of any kind is being made.

* * *

Forgetting their previous argument, Hermione stood, arching her back to stretch. She ran her hand over her stomach feeling the tiny, little bulge.

"We're going to have to tell your parents about the baby soon," Harry smiled, placing a nervous hand on her stomach.

She grinned at him, grasping his hand in hers, "It's ok." She laid it flat on her belly. "Won't be kicking yet," she grinned at him.

He nodded, picking her up with his free arm and carrying her to their bedroom. She giggled and screeched the whole way, laughing as he dropped her on the bed.

"I've got that match in three days. We'll have to get back on a normal people schedule by then." He talked to her as he pulled off his sweater, before flopping on the bed next to her.

"I can't believe everything that's happened in the last few days." He pulled her towards him.

"I know," she spooned up to him as he wrapped his arms around her, "sometimes, I wish we lived in our own little world."

She felt him nod, and soon he was snoring, leaving her thinking maybe things _could _be ok.

-------

When Hermione woke up the next morning, Harry wasn't in bed. She fumbled with the sheets, searching for his body, but he wasn't there. She flew out of bed and tugged on her hair, stumbling as the blood rushed to her head.

"Harry?!"

She tried to steady her footing and straightened her clothes.

"Harry? Where are you?!"

Walking into the hallway, she blinked, the sunlight hurting her eyes.

"Hermione? I'm in the kitchen."

She shuffled in to find him sipping on coffee, eating his last bits of toast. "Want some breakfast?" he nodded to the counter where there was a plate of food, keeping warm. She smiled at him and picked it up.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Didn't want to," he shook his head, dropping the Daily Prophet on the table for her.

"What?"

"You looked so happy. Besides, life has been so stressful lately, I knew you could use the rest."

"You could have, too," she grinned at him, taking a bite of her eggs.

"I have…nightmares," he shifted in his chair.

"Oh?"

"Yes." He grinned shyly at her. "Can't believe the price of the Daily Prophet has gone up."

Hermione dropped her fork. "Oh, stop trying to change the subject Harry. It's ok to be vulnerable _sometimes_. You don't always have to play the hero, you know. What are they about?"

"Nothing. Everything."

"Sorry?"

"I dream about Sirius, and Dumbledore, and Hagrid, all of them dying. Or about Remus attacking me. About you. You dying."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione reached her hand across the table.

"No, it's fine. Really, it's alright. They're just memories – or fears – that won't go away."

"Mmm." She went back to her breakfast, taking Harry's obvious hint.

"So, I thought we should let Hogwarts know you won't be back for a couple more days, then we can head to Reading early and check it out."

"Sounds good. Sounds great. But don't you think we should look around for Remus a bit first?"

"I have been."

"Sorry?"

"I've been sending owls to everyone I can think of, asking if they've seen Remus lately. Seems that except to a select few, Remus hasn't existed for 3 years."

"Three years?"

"Yes. 1,095 days."

"I'm not stupid," she smiled as she retorted.

"What I can't figure out," he sobered as he stood to put his dishes in the sink, "is _why _they haven't seen him. They can't seem to explain it themselves. Just telling me things like, 'He hasn't been 'round,' or 'I've been to busy.' Things like that."

Hermione nodded and watched him pull a wand out of his pajama pocket, setting the dishes to work on themselves. "I remember," he said, grabbing onto the sink and leaning on it for support, "the first time I ever _really _met Remus. It was like a window had opened. He was my first real chance to connect to my mom and dad. And then, so soon, just like that, he was gone. He does that a lot?" He turned to Hermione, and she was alarmed to see he was crying.

She stood up, dropping everything in her hands and wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, Harry. We'll find him, I promise."

--------

They flew to Reading on their brooms, at night so no one would see them, their trunks hovering weightlessly next to them. Harry talked to her a fair amount in the beginning, but eventually grew tired, leaning forward on his broom, giving it the smallest amout of direction.

"Your broom's not a thestral, Harry," Hermione joked, "It doesn't know where to go without your direction."

He nodded and tapped it a little to the east. "There?" He grunted, "Happy?"

"A little."

----------

Reading was a small town. A few motels, a couple pubs and one general store, nothing else to its name. Harry was surprised an International Quidditch match would be held here, but then, they always did try to find obscure places. This was the quintessential obscure city.

They walked over to the motel where they knew all the other Quidditch players were staying – some with their wives, but mostly alone – and booked themselves a room. On their way up the stairs to their fourth floor room, Viktor dashed by them. "Oh!" Hermione dropped her things, and ran after him, leaving Harry laughing, but left to carry her trunk, none – the – less.

He could hear them talking in the stairwell as he clambered up the stairs, and finally he stopped. He stuck his head over the railing and yelled down to Hermione, "Take him out for a drink, love, catch up!"

He heard her consult him for a minute and then the patter of her feet up the stairs. "He said another night," she explained, catching her breath, "his team's practicing right now."

Harry nodded and tugged the trunks into the hallway, where Hermione led the way to their room, turning an old, copper key inside of the doorknob.


	15. What Took So Long?

Title: What Took So Long?  
Rating: R (For fornication)  
Disclaimer: It's not mine, it all belongs to the amazingly talanted JKR. Please don't sue me.  
A/N: Wow, it's been so long since my last post. Thanks for your patience guys - hope you like this chapter.

* * *

When Harry opened the door to the small hotel room, a musky scent wafted through his nostrils. He pushed the door all of the way open, shoving himself and the luggage through, the key pressing against his palm – still tight in his hand. Hermione followed behind him, her hands on her stomach, and watched as he set the stuff next to a small dresser. There was a queen bed in the middle of the room, and Hermione closed her eyes _I wonder if that will even hold Harry. _

And without warning, he scooped her up. He was holding her bridal style and she opened her eyes, laughing into his chest. "Harry, what are you doing?"

He set her on the bed and straddled her, "Since we already live together, and we've already…" he wiggled his eyebrows and looked poignantly at the baby bump, "I felt it was important to take hold of this opportunity." He ran a hand over her forehead, brushing some of the curly hair off of it. She laughed, her teeth peeking out from behind pink lips. Harry leaned down to nuzzle her neck, his nose pressing against her clavicle. Hermione giggled, running her hand over his back, before reaching around his front and sticking her hands up his sweater.

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you." He stopped nuzzling her, pushing himself back up so he could look her in the eyes, "Really, I do."

She nodded, caught off guard by the sincerity of his comment. "Thank you." She pulled her hands down, deftly grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging. Harry sat back and lifted his arms over his head so she could remove his cumbersome garment. She dragged her hands over his chest, sighing. "Have you always looked like this?"

He laughed, making her smile brighter. "You know I haven't, don't you remember when we used to go swimming at the Burrow?"

As a boy, raised at the Dursley's under unhealthy conditions, Harry had been quite skinny and underdeveloped. But after he had turned 17 and had moved out on his own, Harry had started eating better and was training every day for Quidditch. His body had slowly, but surely, become the machine it was.

Hermione smiled, "Well, everyone changes." Harry nodded in reply and leaned down to kiss her again before getting off of her so that he could tug her dress off over her head. He tossed it to the floor and leaned down to kiss her shoulder. He maneuvered his mouth around the strap of her bra, closed his eyes, breathing her in.

"Is this our honeymoon?" she asked, her hands in his back pockets.

He nodded and she reached her hands around his front, letting them brush over the bulge in the denim.

"Hermione…" He let her name escape in a short moan – tried not to be too loud, they hadn't put silencing spells up, after all.

Her hands deftly undid the button, snapped the zipper open, freeing Harry of his cotton confines. She pushed his pants down, along with his boxers, in a sort of frenzy now. Harry reached around her back, undoing the clasp on her bra, letting her breasts fall loose. She hissed out when he nuzzled one nipple, and he snapped his head up, confused, "Did I hurt you?"

"No, just sensitive."

"Oh," he grinned wickedly and bent back down to continue his teasing. Her fingers raked over his back and she arched her body, giving him access to all of her.

He formed a zig zag trail down her abdomen, dropping kisses like rose petals on her skin. When her got to her underwear, he traced the upper edge of the lace with his tongue, causing her to buck her hips up, and Harry narrowly avoided biting her by accident.

He pulled her panties off, throwing them into the pile with their other clothes and moved back up to her mouth. "I should have gotten with you a long time ago," she said, her eyes half lidded, as she ran a hand through his hair. Capturing his mouth in a kiss, she reached down with her free hand and grasped his member.

He was already getting hard, and Hermione's slick hand movements had Harry dripping with pre come in seconds. She wriggled herself so that he was more comfortably adjusted on top of her and moved her hands to steady herself. Harry entered her slowly, causing her to growl. He smirked, putting on hand on the headboard above them. "Brace yourself," he whispered into her ear. Harry alternated between fast and slow thrusts, forcing Hermione to writhe under him.

"Oh, shit. Oh, Harry." Her hand traveled down between them, desperate for release, He grabbed her at the last second, only coming to his senses, "No way, not tonight."

She groaned, "Harry…" Her eyes fluttered closed and her toes curled. "Oh, Merlin!" Harry pushed himself closer to her pelvis, pulling both of her legs around his hips. Her hips, in turn, jerked involuntarily towards him and grasping her partner's shoulders, Hermione came, her toes curling enough to hold a pencil, the arches of her feet cramping.

Harry cried out, having felt her tighten around him, and Hermione felt a hot burst, knew he was more a part of her more than ever. Harry was still sweating when he pulled out, rocking back on his knees. Without saying anything, He grabbed one of her feet, rolling his knuckles over the arch and stretching the muscle. He looked up at her, smiling – glowing - , "Better?"

She nodded her head, found it difficult to speak the words on the edge of her tongue, _"What took me so long?"_

-----------

After they had both showered and tried to unpack their clothing (this ended in a play fight – no work was done), Harry decided to take Hermione out for a quick coffee before leaving for practice. There was a goofy smile on his face as he pocketed the key to their room and grasped her hand, leading her out of the room and down the stairs. A faint blush still colored Hermione's cheeks, her skin was still warm.

Harry wasn't paying much attention to the world around him, neither was Hermione. And so when they left, smiling at the desk clerk, they didn't notice his concealed shock, or when he flipped through a newspaper. They were already out the door when he picked up the phone and quickly dialed a number. As Harry's feet pounded the wooden sidewalk, and he led his fiancé to a little café, the desk clerk was talking in a hushed voice to police officer on the telephone.

"Yes, the one you're looking for. That Harry Potter guy. He's staying at the hotel I work at."


End file.
